Stealing My Life
by QueenOfTheUniverse
Summary: When the truth about Greg’s hidden life is revealed in the form of an attempted kidnapping, will Nick accept Greg’s baggage, or will Greg be forced to live without the family he’s always dreamed of having? NG. One shot. Rated PG. Angst/Romance.


CSI: Stealing My Life: one shot

Greg fished through his locker for a clean shirt. "Drat," he muttered to himself when he found nothing.

"Greg?"

"Huh? What?"

"I just asked if you wanted to join us for breakfast?"

He looked up to register Nick and Warrick watching him, a slightly worried look on his boyfriend's face. Seeing Nick watch him that closely, as his frown eased into a beautiful smile, he vowed not to return it with an uncontrollable grin. Not in front of Warrick. Not ever. He cursed Nick silently. Nick had all the free reign in the world to do what he wanted, since Warrick wasn't paying him any attention. _Drat him!_

"Um, yeah, sure. Sorry. I'm spacing," he finally said. "Do you mind if we stop by my place first so I can get a clean shirt?"

"Of course not." Nick was always agreeable to whatever he wanted. It was amazing. The man was amazing. Truly. Truly. Amazing.

Greg let a little of that grin slip through his facade and Nick returned it, his eyes sparkling.

"What happened to your car, man?" Warrick chimed in, still looking at him like there might be something wrong.

"Costs. I had to cut back." Greg returned to the present, and steeled himself for the journey ahead. Keeping one's feelings locked up in front of others was no easy task.

His co-worker nodded in understanding and they were out the door.

In Nick's car, Warrick allowed Greg to sit shotgun. He was a little taken aback as to why but knew it was unwise to ask. Later on perhaps, he would talk to Nick about it. Maybe he'd already told Warrick about them, but Greg wasn't going to make any assumptions until he was absolutely sure.

Even from a foot away, he could feel Nick's heat drawing him closer. More than anything he wanted to slide his hand along the bench seat and take hold of Nick's, but he knew Warrick would notice, so he kept his hands to himself.

Instead, he dreamed about their future. Their future together. Greg had never been so sure about anything in his entire life. No one had ever made him happier. Of course, Liv made him happy, just not the same way Nick could, and often did. He wanted a family with Nick more than anything and he kept meaning to ask how Nick felt. But he hadn't. Not yet. And it was grating on his nerves. He couldn't keep drawing this out and Nick had yet to mention children, or even their future together minus children. Though to Greg there was no future without children. And if Nick didn't want any...

"We're here," Nick said, breaking into his thoughts, and he could have sworn Nick had been about to call him babe if it weren't for Warrick in the back seat.

He looked at the tiny house and sighed. He hated to admit how embarrassed he was by the sight of it. The house was barely big enough for one bedroom, let alone two. It had been painted white, perhaps twenty or thirty years ago, and now the paint was peeling, layering the equally tiny and scraggly lawn in a harsh, curling snow.

He wished Nick hadn't seen it. He shouldn't have said yes to breakfast. Nick's house was so much nicer and bigger.

In the driveway, sat the little red 1995 Jetta that should have been there. But parked at an odd, hurried angle behind it, sat a more expensive, much newer car Greg didn't recognize.

His eyes flipped to the front door, it's blue paint also peeling. It was almost hard to detect from this distance, but he could see the crack between the door itself and the frame.

Harley was never that careless.

"I thought you didn't have a car. You trying to avoid guests or something?"

Without a word to either man, he got out and hurried to the house. Pushing the door open, his heartbeat quickened when he heard a grunt from the back bedroom followed by a scream. A baby's cry stopped his heart all together and he had to gather his wits about him before rushing into the room.

Panic took a strong hold at the sight before him. A young blonde teenager was holding onto the baby in her arms with a death grip and trying to fend off her attacker at the same time.

Greg screamed, "No!"

He grabbed the first thing he could, a stuffed rabbit, and lobbed it at the man. But it had little effect. He rushed him, unsure what he would do when their two bodies collided. The man, built like a linebacker on a professional football team, smacked Greg across the face with the back of his hand, sending him flying into the nearby dresser. He cried out as the sharp corner of the furniture bit into his back.

A loud scream filled the room. Greg looked up, dazed. The teen was down and the baby, thankfully still in her arms, was wailing her little lungs out, her face all scrunched up and turning a bright shade of red.

The linebacker bent to pick up the baby girl.

"No! Please!" Greg pleaded. "Please, don't."

"LVPD!" Nick and Warrick burst into the room.

"Greg?" Nick was by his side helping him up in moments, and it was then Greg noticed the two CSIs had their weapons drawn. Relief flooded him, weakened his knees. He quickly gripped Nick's arm to keep himself standing.

The blond was back on her own feet.

"Hand the child back to the girl," Warrick ordered. "Do it! Now!"

"What? This is my niece, my sister's baby." His voice was deep, and oddly familiar.

Greg took another look and recognized his pug nose, the sneer on his lips, and the hatred in his eyes when he finally looked at Greg.

"Jen gave her up!" Greg shouted. "You have no right to take her! No right!" He was horrified when a squeak accompanied his last words.

"Jen?" Warrick looked at the teen.

"No. Name's Harley. I'm Greg's babysitter."

Warrick didn't even blink at the news. He nodded his weapon in her direction. "Give her the baby. Now."

Nick was already using his cell phone to call for backup while still holding his weapon aimed at Devon, Jen's brother.

If Nick and Warrick hadn't been there Greg was sure he'd have been crying right along with his daughter. He was trembling so hard he thought he would fall when Devon handed her over to Harley.

In one swift motion Nick put his cell phone back into his pocket, holstered his gun, and launched himself at the giant, taking him down. Warrick slapped cuffs on Devon once Nick had his hands behind his back.

Left alone while the two older CSIs escorted Devon to the kitchen to await a patrol car, Greg held his arms outstretched for Liv, needing to feel her life against his chest. Harley didn't wait to deliver her to her father.

"I'm sorry Greg. I didn't realize what he was after until I had the door open. I tried to keep him away from her, but, well, we're not exactly the same size. I'm sorry."

"It's ok," he said, barely able to control his emotions.

Harley went into the kitchen to give him time alone with his daughter.

He clutched Liv to him and his tears finally fell, rolling down his cheeks as hers turned to sniffles. She sat up in his arms and watched him cry. Just then a strong, comforting arm snaked around his waist, and he was pressed into the side of a warm body.

"It's ok. She's safe," Nick whispered, his Texan accent extra thick. "It's ok."

Slowly his trembling and tears subsided.

"She's beautiful, G. Why didn't you ever tell me about her?"

Greg looked away, out the window, stared at the lone tree in the small backyard. "The biggest mistake of my life."

"Mistake?"

"Not Liv. Not my baby girl. I mean Jen. Getting mixed up with her and her family. We dated for awhile but it didn't work out. When she told me she was pregnant... we'd already broken up. She didn't want Liv. She promised I could take her when she was born... but her family wanted Liv to stay with them." He adjusted his daughter in his arms, stroking the short tufts of hair between his fingers. "There was a big fight... I guess they still want her." He held her tighter, not daring to let her go.

"But why didn't you tell me? It's been three months." While Greg had been expecting a harsher, more angry tone, he was surprised to find Nick's voice soft and encouraging.

He sighed, knowing full well what Nick was talking about. It had only been three months since they'd started dating, but still too long for his boyfriend not to know about his offspring.

"You won't stick around," he said, refusing to look at Nick.

"What?" His boyfriend's hand tightened on his hip. "Why wouldn't I stick around?"

"You'll leave me. I'm sorry for doing this to you. I... was going to ask you... see how you felt dating someone with a kid. But I was too chicken. I'm sorry Nick. Really."

"You gave up your car for your little girl." It wasn't a question.

Greg nodded. "Most of my music collection too... everything I had. My house was too expensive. So we downsized to this." He looked around at the almost bare room with its dirty white walls and yard sale furniture. "Might have to go back to the lab, get out of the field, just so I can paint her room a nice pretty pink. I'll do it though. Anything for her. She comes first."

"And she should. But G... I'm not gonna freak out and run."

Greg held his daughter closer. Was he trembling again? The tree blurred.

"You know how much I love kids."

A finger on his chin turned his face so he was looking at a blurry Nick. He blinked his eyes and let the tears fall again. Nick brushed them away with the pad of his thumbs, both hands cradling Greg's face.

"I love you, G."

He bit his lip and shook his head. This was all so surreal. Not happening. Not happening at all.

"I was going to tell you later, but I've been thinking it for a long time. Even before we started dating."

"You're lying. You have to be."

"I'm not." Nick's voice was still soft, still inviting, as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Greg's lips. "I love you," he whispered again.

"Greg?" Warrick stood in the doorway. "O'Reilly's here to talk to you."

Greg smiled faintly in his direction then turned back to Nick once Warrick was gone. Had he seen Nick kiss him just then? He felt himself begin to tremble again. The last thing he needed was Warrick pounding him into the sidewalk and he knew he would if he felt the need. Nick was one of his best friends after all.

"Her name is Liv," he said, needing Nick to know this, needing to get his mind off Warrick's fists of fury. "That's Norwegian for 'life'. She's my life."

Nick gave a half grin. "Only you, with your crazy rock attitudes would think to give her a traditional Norwegian name with such a deep meaning. Would you maybe consider her being a part of my life too?"

Greg swallowed the lump building in his throat. "I'm scared, Nick. Terrified." Had he just admitted that out loud? To Nick?

"I know it's a big step. You don't have to answer me right now, ok?"

"Ok." But he had an answer. So why was he saying he'd wait? A second 'Ok' slipped out all the same.

Nick reached around him and the baby to pull them both into a warm hug. "I doubt what you want has changed since I first walked in here. Just take some time to realize that I might actually want the same thing."

Greg nodded as his boyfriend's warm hands rubbed over his back. He yelped when they brushed over a sore spot.

"What happened? Are you ok?" Nick asked.

"He threw me into the dresser."

Nick moved behind him to see how badly bruised he was.

"You've got a large bruise that's beginning to swell up. It looks nasty. Why don't you go talk to O'Reilly and I'll get you an ice pack for that."

Nick followed him into the kitchen where the detective waited along with Harley and Warrick. Greg sat down at the table, still holding Liv close.

"Hi Greg," O'Reilly greeted. "You want to tell me what went on with Devon? I got Harley's story and the run down from Warrick, but I'd appreciate your version." The man already had his note pad out and ready.

Nick offered Greg the ice pack. "Do you want me to take her for you while you talk?"

"I've got her." He wasn't letting her out of his sight and he hoped Nick understood.

Nick pulled up a chair to sit beside him and as Greg began to tell the Detective what had happened, he felt Nick's hand on the small of his back. No, not his hand, the ice pack. He'd wrapped it in a thin dish cloth and held it to the swollen skin beneath his t-shirt.

O'Reilly gave them both an odd look that said he hadn't missed the innuendo, though he didn't comment on it. Greg didn't look at Warrick, for fear of the look he'd get in return. Harley was almost like a second daughter to him at times and she'd easily figured everything out the night he'd had his first date with Nick. It was Warrick and O'Reilly he most worried about. Two very straight men in homophobic careers.

When O'Reilly left he said he'd keep them both updated on what went down with Devon. It was a quiet acceptance Greg was eternally grateful for.

He saw Harley to the door, making sure she received double her normal pay, even when she refused to take it.

"I don't need to tell you to take care of them," he heard Warrick comment on the other side of the kitchen once the teen was gone. "But for me, take care of them, alright?" As the older CSI started to leave, he paused to clap Greg on the shoulder. "You'll be fine," he said. "You've got Nick looking after you." Warrick lowered his voice, "You take care of him. You hear me?"

Greg nodded, surprised, then asked, "You won't tell Grissom, will you?"

"That ball's not in my court." Warrick took him by the shoulders, turned him to face Nick, and stepped out the kitchen door. "But I'll back you if you need me to," he said before shutting the door.

Nick was smiling uncontrollably, his arm out, waiting for Greg. As he stepped forward and took Nick's hand he felt his heart lighten and his fears slip away. He was pulled into a warm embrace welcoming him home and he knew, without a doubt, these arms were where he wanted to spend his forever.

* * *

A/N: This very short story was inspired by a scene in the movie Fried Green Tomatoes, which is based on the book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café by Fannie Flagg. And, just so you know, there will not be a sequel to this story. Thanks for reading!

I have a question to ask of you. I need a realistic penname for publishing M/M romance novels/short stories and need some opinions. I want Jordan as a first name. As one M/M author gave a nod to a character who inspired him to write M/M, I thought I might do the same and choose Sanders as a last name. My penname would then be Jordan Sanders. Thoughts? The name needs to be gender neutral, which is part of the reason I chose Jordan. Does it roll off the tongue right? Feel free to comment in reviews here, or you can PM me on my wiki.

Also, now might be a good time to join my personal wiki! Www(dot)QueenOfTheUniverse(dot)wetpaint(dot)com. You can keep in contact with me there, and I should also be posting updates on original novels and short stories as well as any remaining fanfic in the News section of the homepage. Of course, all of my fanfic is archived there as well. And the best part is... you can use the same account you might already have with the official CSI fan wiki!


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